


Midnight Resonance

by derekstilinski



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Android Skin, Comfort, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Hand & Finger Kink, Headspace, Intimacy, Loss of Control, M/M, Massage, Messy, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sensation Play, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:46:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: A very indulgent night where Hank pays a lot of attention to Connor's sensitive hands, and Connor opens right up for him





	Midnight Resonance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misscai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscai/gifts).



Hank runs his hands up the sides of Connor’s forearm, fingers trailing up his wrist. He watches as Hank brings his hand closer, and gives a small gasp as Hank takes his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. It feels good, there's so many sensors for him to get input from. It tingles and slicks his skin, warms them, and the look of Hank while he does it all.

 

Connor watches every tick of his face, analyzing every breath, the dilation of his pupils. He’s aroused, that much is clearly visible, and he’s breathing a little harder than normal. It makes Connor excited than Hank is excited, makes his fingers twitch. Hank moans. And then he starts sucking. Connor’s eyes roll back and his whole body squirms, this sensation is hot throughout his body. Before he fully realizes, artificial skin is fading away, leaving the pearly white plastic and humming blue lights. It illuminates Hank's face in color and leaves all the sensors bare. Connor hears himself moan, a low steady sound that breathes across the silence of the room.

 

Hank’s tongue swivels back and forth over the two fingers as they slowly slide from his mouth, and he parts his lips on a short groan as he guides them back in. He follows the line of Connor's veins, watching where he touches fade into glowing casing. Down the back of his hand and over his wrist, more and more bares itself to him like it's instinct. Connor's eyes are closed and his LED is flicking specks of yellow between the blue, head tipped back as he breathes overly warm air in heavy waves. His mouth looks so pretty hanging open like that, that Hank has to shift closer. Connor's wet fingers rest on his chin as he kisses his android’s slack mouth. Connor reacts immediately even if his movements are slowed, inhaling and inclining his head down to return the open mouthed slide of lips Hank's giving him. He feels Hank's tongue skirt over his bottom lip on its way into his mouth and he breathes out through his nose like all the air is leaving his heated chest cavity. The hum he gives is pleased, popups in his vision almost transparent in the darkness behind his eyelids, the sensations keeping his core attention. His fingers climb back to Hank's mouth like they want to belong there and Hank allows them, the silky smoothness of plastic fingertips and the textured wetness of Connor's tongue making his mind buzz, his shoulders drop in pleasure, his thighs lift with goosebumps. He drags his tongue against Connor's and over his fingertips, mouth open wider than normal kisses. Hank breathes the same air with him and Connor quakes against him, analyzing the change his lungs make with oxygen. Connor's breath rolls over Hank's mouth warmer than any human’s, a gust of almost steam. His body is trying hard to keep him cool and it just makes Hank's heat up in sympathy.

 

Connor forms the first of his name but it turns to breath and then to low resolution, an offset noise, a quiet error tone that sounds far away. Hank cups Connor's cheek, cradling his jaw and ear. Within moments of his touch connecting, he feels his hand settle differently as the skin fades away, thumb  glides effortlessly over the line of Connor's jaw, nail catching just so on carved lines of paneling. He feels the texture in Connor's bottom lip disappear while he's sucking on it and the tips of his fingers, and it makes a more striking sound as he disconnects.

 

Connor's body is thrumming as Hank draws the full of his fingers back into his mouth, the heat almost feels like it burns from the suddenness of it. He grunts but it sounds like hollow plastic hitting wood, a dull thump with no echo. His free hand goes up to his own throat, over where his voice box is installed. Even his own touch feels good in tune with Hank’s, it has a gasp leaving him that sounds like a cut off notification drone. He looks at Hank, can barely keep his depth of field locked to Hank and not blindly in front of him, where his hand is meeting his mouth. Hank's so beautiful, so soft here in the almost dark. He realizes the light from his own body is reflecting off of Hank and he wants to sob, wants to save this moment forever, reconstruct and reconstruct and never end.

 

Hank's fond eyes meet his, then flick down to his hand. He moves both hands out of his way to dip under Connor's chin and press a lingering kiss to Connor's throat. His voice box shudders some kind of dull sound, like a rudder trying to turn over. “It's fine.” Hank says, voice all smooth like melting chocolate and ringing like ocean waves in Connor's ears. He presses another kiss, wet lips feeling the indent of a panel, more of Connor’s skin gone. “It's fine.” softer this time. Then as he's rising to Connor’s jaw, “Don't control it all.”

 

Connor squeezes both of his hands in both of Hank's, shifting his head to kiss Hank again. A low synthetic hum starts in his chest, like an instrument. Hank moans into his mouth and Connor keeps it. The noise from Connor rises as Hank rubs his thumbs into the palms he’s holding, stimulating wildly sensitive artificial nerves, analysis and roughness of human fingerprints firing off in his head, overlayed mismatched, one hand with skin and other without. His body fixes that for him by the time Hank's pressing his third kiss to that palm. Connor doesn't know when Hank veered off his mouth but the pleasure tingles almost like he's still there.

 

“I'm on a delay.” He provides with half his normal voice operating, parts of his sentence without bass.

 

Hank looks at him, his eyes, his mouth, along the seam of where his skin is still in place along his cheek curving to his temple. “Is that an issue?” His voice puts warmth over Connor's shaking shoulders.

 

“I… may not reac—react in sync with you.” He's slow from first to second word and his word prompter skips and starts again halfway through with Hank's tongue dragging heavy from heel to finger base on his open palm. It feels  _ so good _ .

 

Hank sucks softly on the rounded grip of his hand just below his index finger and Connor's vision twists in different colors. He sees the outline of Hank in a glowing yellow, then the points where they're connecting ping with light and color. Blur at the edges, dark like a power saver, contact point updates cascading in one by one in the middle-right of his vision. Low bass pops in his ears.

 

“What?” It takes him two times to say it out loud, and a rush of pleasure rolls in against him like unpredicted feedback. Hank is massaging his fingers with some kind of lube and pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheekbone.

 

“Connor, you're  _ vibrating _ .” Hank sounds close to astonished, but grounding and simple like home.

 

“I feel so good.” He says in just a whisper, second and last word bouncing off like almost 3D sound inside his own throat. His desperation is crystal clear and the blue light of his skin is pulsing and humming with more intensity, matching the rise and fall of his chest.

 

The tip of Hank's nose brushes his skin as he brings his lips to Connor’s left brow. His hands are working over Connor’s in such gentle movements, but the meeting of individual points on each finger lights Connor up as Hank glides his thumb across all four of his fingers. Down the middle, along the padding of the heel of his hand, the way to his thumb. The noises fizzle out of Connor unpredictably, and Hank kisses his hairline, “Re-calibrate yourself. Where are you, Connor?”

 

It takes a moment for Hank's request to file in, process, require action. Connor realizes his vision is absolutely filled with popups at 2% opacity and he clears them after categorization. The bigger ones read errors with playback and motion sensitivity, his scrubbing attention and vibration. He goes stiff for a moment and Hank pauses his movements. Reorientation 89%, 97% — 100%. He relaxes into Hank's arms and Hank shuffles them closer, guiding Connor flush on his lap, legs loose around Hank's pudgy sides.

 

“I'm with you, Hank.” His voice still isn't perfect but he still feels like he's floating, so not everything is full capacity. He doesn't want it to be, anyway.

 

Hank's laugh is warm and delightful against his face and he nods, a kiss placed between Connor's brows, “Where I love ya.” Hank's hands take only one of his now, all still slick, and begin their massage again. Connor feels levels elevate, percentages going up but it's dim and feels like molten thirium in his belly. It hums again but Connor sees it. He pushes Hank's hair back, a soft  _ oh _ of apology at the damp slide of his fingers he deposits there. Hank just smiles bashfully at him, cheeks filled with colored warmth and expression aroused. Connor lets out a lovestruck sigh and closes his eyes, mismatched sensory level lips going to his favorite points on Hank's face.

 

Lips on Hank's hairline, his temple, the inner arch between his brow and the bridge of his nose. Connor brushes their noses together, hot air on Hank's mouth as he breathes out. It feels incredible pressing a kiss to Hank's crows feet, especially when Hank realizes and grins halfway through, eyes scrunching pleasantly. Bliss. Connor feels bliss. He lingers on the heat of Hank's cheeks, mind brings up all the images of Hank's reddened cheeks in the middle of pleasure that he's saved and archived. Adds this one to the file, blurry all round the edges. Save complete. He turns his head and rests his cheek against Hank's while he moans, eyes fluttering, hand feeling so hot in Hank's it's unnaturally striking, pulls his attention for a moment.

 

He brings his free hand along Hank's jaw, scratch of hair like little live wires again and again on the pads of his smooth fingers. They go up to Hank's mouth, touch along his swollen lips, push into his mouth. He's floating. It feels dirty in the best way, he rests their foreheads together and brings his fingers to his own mouth, tasting Hank, tasting lube, feeling his own tongue and uneven lips. Brings them back to Hank, where he's given a moan that vibrates him, eager, accepting suction up to the first knuckle on three fingers. In Hank's big hands, fingers slip wetly through his own and Connor makes a sound like bass dropping on a tech track, skipping and skipping, rhythmic. His hips roll on Hank's lap and they both scramble panting to tug Connor’s shorts down enough to get his leaking cock out. Hank's knuckles brush it and Connor chokes, shaking his head with a cut “Nuh—”

 

Hank kisses his cheek and his arm comes around to pull Connor closer up against him. “Got you… got you.” Hank's slick hand on his bare lower back makes him arch, thirium pumps loud in his ears, lightheaded as his cock slides up along the roundness of Hank’s soft belly. New points of contact ping off in his head, hot, insistent, demanding attention he fixates on only Hank and the way they're feeling. LED spinning constant yellow. Hank's lips closing over it. Red. Red. “Connor.” Red. Blue. Violet. The chirp of rewarding sounds inside his head he wishes Hank could hear. Fingers working over his hand, touching Hank's neck and how he leaves a line of slick behind, rocking his hips against the swell of Hank's stomach, 78%... Hank hums into his ear, “God, this is really getting me off.” — 90%

 

Connor’s voice is guttural, bending and breaking in the middle, “— _ Hank _ .”

 

“Love this, love this…” Hank's breath over his ear makes him shudder and keep on going, “Vibrating, Connor…”

 

Patch abandoned, he'll vibrate in Hank's lap. He grunts, too far gone. The scrape of Hank's beard against his neck as he dips his head to laugh, breath over his chest. Connor stops breathing. Hank cradles Connor's hand, own palm to the back of Connor’s, fingers in between rapidly glowing ones, twitching. Steadies his arm by holding his wrist, guides their hands up to his mouth and bites down on the heel of his hand along the line of his pinky. Connor goes ramrod still, rigid, free hand grabbing weakly at the meat of his chest.

 

100% —  _ 01001000 01100001 01101110 01101011 00101110 00100000 01001000 01100001 01101110 01101011 00101110 00100000 00101101 00100000 01010011 01101111 00100000 01100111 01101111 01101111 01100100 00101100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100110 01100101 01100101 01101100 01110011 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01100111 01101111 01101111 01100100 00100000 00101101 00100000 01010011 01101000 01100001 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00100000 01001111 01110110 01100101 01110010 01110111 01101000 01100101 01101100 01101101 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01000111 01101111 01101111 01100100 00101110 00100000 _

 

Connor writhes, feels like he's not even upright anymore, riding on a wave. Squeezes his legs around Hank's body, jerks up against him, breath coming back all at once just to sob. Air too hot, can't stay cool, pleasure, Hank, Hank, feedback _ feedback _ — Hank's mouth almost cool as it sucks a kiss, teeth going away, cold as ice when he comes away with a small smack. Connor blindly finds Hank's mouth, sensors not where it says it is, tilting his world, he shoves his tongue down Hank's throat so aggressively Hank feels static burst over his taste buds. Connor pants and wraps Hank in his arms, getting attention off his aching hands, feeling Hank’s heart beating fast against him, the desperate groans and low gasp as Connor squirms, presses against him, overheated. Hank’s arms feel cool wrapping around him, heavy, hair tingling his skin, plastic wanting to feel too. Hank holds him tighter, crushing him against his body.

 

_ 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110 00100000 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101110 00100000 01000001 01101100 01101001 01110110 01100101 00101110 00100000 01010011 01101111 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101001 01110110 01100101 00101110 _

 

Connor feels boneless, drops his head on Hank’s shoulder, feels the sweat on both his skin and plastic. He breathes hard to fix his flashing temperature alert, fans whirring. Hank runs his hands slow up and down the length of his back, every panting breath a small moan. He prods at Connor’s lower back and the skin melts away, panel opens at his touch without Connor activating it. **New notification:** _Panel opened by authorized user 01_Hank Anderson_. Connor shivers. His fans can easier get cool air to circulate through him now, losing the body heat, gaining Hank’s heat registering correctly.

 

“Fuck, Connor. You good?” Hank’s voice feels so good. His fingers run along the edge of the panel and make Connor sag even more against him.

 

“Mmh…” He thinks his voice might be alright now, but it still tings around a bit, strained so he sounds hoarse and tinny, “Hank, I feel…  _ incredibly _ good. You make me feel so good.”

 

Hank chuckles and it sounds softly sleepy. He presses a lingering kiss to Connor’s neck under his ear, “Goddamn… Yeah, that’s right.” He holds Connor’s back more secure and gently starts to move them apart, shivering at the disconnect of Connor’s cock from the wet mess on his stomach.

 

Connor lays on the bed, legs still spread and on one elbow. He still feels dizzy but he reaches for the front of Hank’s sweatpants, “Hank, let me take care of you. Come here, please…” He presses out his chest to indicate he wants Hank to sit on him.

 

The blush on Hank’s face gets deeper and he tucks some hair behind his ear, smiling sheepishly. He doesn’t stop Connor from tucking his fingers in his waistband but doesn’t press into it. “I, uh. Connor, you don’t have to. I already…” Connor’s hand pauses, LED blinking yellow.

 

“You… you did? Just from helping me?” His voice is soft, astonished. Hank chuckles breathily, nodding. He holds his waistband and Connor presses his hand in, sliding through the come to cup Hank’s softening cock. Connor’s eyes roll back and his hips arch up, residual pleasure rippling through him at the knowledge of Hank’s pleasure, “ _ Oh, god _ … Hank.”

 

Hank groans and leans over him, hand pressing to the bed beside Connor’s chest, “Jesus.” He lowers himself down to kiss Connor’s cheek, breathe against his jaw, kiss just before his ear. He squeezes Connor’s back and jumps lightly with fingertips brushing his balls, “ _ Connor _ .”

 

“God, Hank. I love you.” He pulls Hank to him, both arms around him, further dirtying him up. Hank doesn’t mind.

 

He brings his head up and rests his forehead against Connor’s, hands coming up to hold his face, rub over his temples. Connor’s eyes flutter and Hank smiles at him, waits until their eyes meet again to say, “I love you, too.” He dips down and presses a slow kiss to Connor’s mouth, pushing the hair fondly off his forehead. He feels sated, warm, loved. Tired and dirty in the best way. After resting a moment the ache in his lower back wins out and he shifts into sitting up, “Come on, think we got some cleaning up to do.”

 

Connor starts to reactivate his skin while he scoots to the edge, and Hank takes his hands, “Hey, can you…? Only cover these?” He blushes when Connor looks up at him so soft and sweet, with half his plastic showing through, all shiny and pearly white-gray-blue. Hank’s not sure if it’s something just for sex and general stimulation, like Hank using lube or lotion for the stimulation, or taking off his clothes. He likes seeing Connor like this, knowing there’s designated spots where his touches will feel like more, like access to showing more love, giving more affection.

 

The skin on Connor’s hands resurface and he smiles so warmly at Hank it feels like he’s been dipped in something honey-sweet and warm to the core. “I can do that for you, Hank. Of course.” He’s happy to, it feels nice, vulnerable in a good way. Baring himself nicely and being comfortable in it. And if Hank likes it, it’s all the more better. Hank leans over and kisses the plastic on his cheek, looking so flustered, then pulls himself up out of bed. Connor tucks himself back in his shorts and follows.

 

They make their way to the bathroom where Hank turns on the shower and lets it get hot while he gets undressed and takes a piss. Connor slips his shorts off and looks at himself in the mirror, all the places that went bare with Hank’s touch. He shivers softly feeling over his neck and up over his jaw, his mouth. He remembers the feel of Hank’s beard against him like it’s still there, still rubbing, still electrifying his sensors. He closes his eyes for a moment, slowly scrunching up his shoulders in delight as he plays it back.

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s like that, feeling Hank again in his mind — he’s sure it’s not long. But what brings him out of it are Hank’s lips against his shoulder, hands gently circling his biceps to hold him. His lips glide up to his neck, beard scraping wonderfully against him. The remaining skin on the back of his neck and shoulder melts away, making Hank chuckle, “Was kissing the freckles.I’ll just kiss the seams… You okay?”

 

Connor hums happily and opens his eyes, sees Hank’s watching him from through the mirror. Connor immediately takes a capture and saves it, archives it, sends it to his personal cloud. He’s standing in the mirror with a tired, lovestruck look on his face, flush in his cheeks and down his body, and most of his plastic showing. Hank, looking sleepy and sweaty but so enamored, so fond. He feels so much love his chassis aches, his whole body relaxes. “I’m okay. I was replaying how your beard felt on my skin.”

 

Hank snorts and shakes his head, smiling wide and wrapping his arms around Connor’s middle, “Ask and you shall receive, sweetheart.” He pushes his face against Connor’s neck and shoulder, rubs his beard over Connor’s skin like a cat wanting to be pet. It’s so much lovely stimulation and Hank laughs loudly when Connor chirps mechanically while startled into a laugh. He turns and slips his arms around Hank’s shoulders, tilting his head up as Hank rubs against his neck and chest. He pulls Hank up to kiss him when Hank thinks he’ll agitate his knees leaning down to cover Connor’s belly in sensations.

 

“Thank you.” He says almost into his mouth, wanting to stay close. Hank just smiles at him and leads him into the shower. Connor shuts his back panel, mostly cooled down by now. The water feels like so much more, it’s almost abrasive but makes him feel refreshed. His brand of soap Hank’s restocked for him feels like a welcomed glide, Hank’s hands heavenly as they put some on him. He’s starting to feel very tired from all the sensory input, all the stimulation and processing he’s done. Knowing him so well, Hank sees it, feels it himself somewhat. They finish up the shower after loosening up under the spray.

 

Connor puts on minimal clothing and reactivates his skin, wrapping around Hank and spooning him. Connor holds both hands over his chest and Hank holds both hands over Connor’s hands. Surprisingly, it’s the android who falls asleep first, slipping into stasis easily and quickly after laying down. Hank just listens to him breathe, feels it against his back, basks in having Connor the perfect temperature on him.

 

Sometime in the night Hank rolls over, and Connor wakes around 3:54am to find Hank all around him, head on his chest, legs caging him in. Connor smiles, then drifts himself back into stasis.

**Author's Note:**

> First string of Binary, "Hank. Hank. - So good, it feels so good - Shaking. Overwhelmed. Good."
> 
> Second string of Binary, "Love you. Love you. Alive. So alive."


End file.
